


From the Start

by JustFetching



Category: Batman - All Media Types, Suicide Squad (2016)
Genre: Abusive Relationship, F/M, Harley Quinn - Freeform, Joker - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-08-20
Updated: 2016-08-27
Packaged: 2018-08-09 22:08:28
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,832
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7819108
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JustFetching/pseuds/JustFetching
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"She knew he was a psychopath. She had always known from the start. Yet, it never stopped her from loving him or trying to be loved by him. As she fell to her death, Harley's disorderly brained wondered how she ended up like this. He had never tried to kill her before." Based off a deleted scene from the movie. Depicts a darker relationship.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> For those who haven't seen the movie, this story contains minimal spoilers.
> 
> It's actually based off a deleted scene that I read about. I saw Suicide Squad today and I hated it. I only liked the Joker and Harley Quinn, but I wished they showed more of the dark side to their relationship. This story may be a one-shot. Or I may talk more about the history of Harley and the Joker. It depends on the reception. Obviously, this is Leto's Joker. I liked it despite the terrible script and cheesy bits. He is super modernized and stylistic which I think is what the Joker needs in 2016. Also, I have never read the comics.
> 
> Last, this is a quick and dirty story I wrote tonight when I couldn't sleep. I haven't written in a while, but I would love to hear opinions.

Harley felt like she was dreaming as she climbed up the rope of the helicopter and caught a glimpse of him. First, she saw his imported Italian leather shoes connected to tailored black pants. Eventually, she came across his lean torso and broad shoulders engulfed in an expertly fitted tux. Almost none of his tattoos were visible. He almost seemed out of place on that helicopter, but when Harley saw his bright green hair and the shine of his grill, she knew it was her Puddin'.

She propelled herself upward even faster and leaped up onto the platform with an acrobatic flare. The night had been a series of ups and downs. She was released from jail, but controlled like an animal through a microchip. She got new clothes, but she couldn't show them off to Mr. Jay. Then again, she did get to kill people (or what were once people) and get away from that creepy prison guard. As Harley looked upon her lover, she decided that tonight was the most spectacular night she'd had in months.

Mr. Jay looked like a Angel, a Fallen Angel. He was tall, lean and eerily striking. His hair was the color of fresh grown grass and, he had a tattoo that said "Damaged" on his powdery white forehead. Still, he looked dapper as ever in a designer tux tailored to his wiry body. He always dressed in nice suits, but this tux was fancier than usual. Harley's smile grew even bigger as she thought about him putting in more effort just for her.

"Hi Puddin', did you get all dressed up for me?" she squealed cheerfully. She approached him slowly despite her excitement, careful to wait for his invitation to get even closer. She was happy to see him, but she knew better. She had learned that the hard way.

"Hey Princess, I had to wear something special for our little reunion," he cooed with a grin. It was a smile Harley had never seen before. It was uncharacteristically warm and genuine, almost like he really loved her in the way she wanted. Even though Harley was missing a few screws, she still felt the uneven distribution of affection in their relationship. Harley was completely infatuated with him. She would die for him. The Joker cared for Harley the way one would for a pet. He assumed complete control and domination of her. He corrected her when she fell in line. She was his, but he was not hers. The Clown Prince reached out his hand and Harley took it with a squeal as she hugged him. His broad shoulders enveloped her tiny frame as she took in the deep scent of lavender.

"Thank you baby for deactivating that thing out of my neck. I love you so much," she mumbled into his neck, leaving a trail of kisses. He kissed her forehead and she breathed him in. She felt like the luckiest girl at that moment. Her hands ran up and town his torso reveling in the familiarity of his body. She felt his hand at the small of her back. Her Puddin' was being so sweet. She cried just a little bit thinking that her time with Griggs at Belle Reves Penitentiary was worth this moment. She never wanted to leave his arms.

Mr. Jay's right hand man, Frost, approached, careful not to touch him. "Sir, I think we should -," the tall man began cautiously. One of the Joker's arms left Harley's side and reached into his jacket. "Shut up," he barked pointing the gun at Frost. Harley stared at the gun and Frost's terrified face with a smile. Nothing turned her on more than watching her baby assert his power. The clown's grip on her ass tightened. She could feel the tension in his body. "We are having a fucking moment". Harley watched his henchman back away. Finally, she looked at her Puddin' with her makeup smeared face. She honestly didn't feel worthy to be in the same vicinity of such power. Apparently, he didn't think so either.

Looking back at her was not Puddin', but the Joker. His eyes grew even colder and his grin was replaced by a snarl. The gun was still in his hand but it was pointed at the blonde. "What the fuck are you doing, you bitch? You are getting makeup all over this designer tux. I got it tailored just for you, you ungrateful whore," he yelled with rage. Harley felt him shove her away and her heart sank with each cutting word. A loud noise rang throughout the shaking helicopter followed by the smell of smoke. The Joker only became more frustrated as the frame shook more voilently. He stood up straight and his hands raked through his hair and Harley grew fearful of her lover. He walked closer to her a smile, but this time she backed away.

"This is your fault. We are going to die because of you," he chortled with the same sadistic smile. "I bet you lured me here on purpose didn't you?"

"No," Harley screamed through tears as he moved closer. "Puddin' I would never do that to you! It's me! I'm you're Princess! I love you!"

A pale tattooed hand grabbed Harley's throat. Although he was tall and thin, the Joker was strong. Harley thought it was the most alluring thing about him. He contained such power in such a small package. She screamed despite her restricted airway. He squeezed tighter and lifted the tiny woman off her feet. His strength wasn't as sexy when it was being used on her.

"No, Mr. Jay stop! Mr. Jay you said you wouldn't kill me! Mr. Jay, I love you so much!" Harley cried as he carried her closer to the door she entered less than ten minutes ago. She put a hand on his in an effort to calm him. The door opened and the loud wind whipped at her body as it hung outside the plane.

"Do not fucking touch me!" the Joker snarled and then he let go of Harley, plunging her into the night.

She fell straight on her back, her eyes lingering on her so-called lover for a few seconds. Eventually, she realized that the helicopter was on fire. The vigorously turning blades had started to slow as the aircraft was engulfed by flames. Harley looked at the fire. It was beautiful. The lovely orange whirlpool looked spectacular against the dark knight sky. She would of laughed and marveled more if she and Puddin' had started the fire.

Instead, Harley could only cry. As she fell, she tried to figure out why she was crying in her jumbled brain. She was sad that Puddin' was about to die. She was crying so much that she could barely see the flames of the helicopter. Another part of her wept for her lover's betrayal. She knew he was a psychopath. She had always known from the start. Yet, it never stopped her from loving him or trying to be loved by him. As she fell to her death, Harley's disorderly brain wondered how she ended up like this. He had never tried to kill her before.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Even though, the first chapter/intro didn't do that well. I decided to write more. The following chapter will take place before the events of chapter 1. I think, I'm going to build up on that relationship. Either way, thanks to the people that followed it. Ya'll are awesome! Also, I couldn't find if the Joker wears lipstick or not. Send a PM if you disagree. Although I haven't read the comics, I did a lot of "research". I had to delete my search history.

Harleen awoke to a massive headache. As the bright sunlight streamed through the window, she could feel her migraine pulsing through her temples like electricity. The room looked familiar, but she couldn't recognize it. She had no recollection of how she ended up there. Her memory was fuzzy and illusive. Every time the psychiatrist tried to remember, she grew confused, and pain in her head intensified. So, the perplexed women closed her eyes and went back to sleep, hoping for clarity when she awoke.

Continuously, she woke up just to fall asleep. It was hard to think in the never ending fog of her brain. The blonde could only look at her surroundings in a drowsy haze. Sometimes, she saw things. A man feeding her, wiping a cool rag on her face. He was always there. Once, the disoriented doctor awoke and felt slightly more alert. So, she clumsily tried to pull out the IV in her wrist with her heavy limbs. The needle was causing her pain, showing that it wasn't inserted by a professional. Her visitor stopped her. She felt cold, bony hands on her wrist.

"No, no, no, Harley. We haven't quite gotten to the punchline of this joke, yet," he said in a sing-song voice. She found his mood unsettling. He seemed very cheerful for someone that was sitting by her bedside in what she assumed was a hospital. His voice contained no remorse or sadness. In her clouded judgement, she only sensed an excitement from him. He enchanted Harley, despite the foreboding feeling she got from him. Maybe, the chalky white skin or the dark rings under his eyes caused her stomach to lurch in a fearful anticipation. From far away the man looked like a clown in full makeup, but Harley could see that almost all his features were natural, except his tattoos. He also wore red lipstick. His hair was bleached to a point that it was the chemically induced green like an over-treated lawn. Harley studied him through half-lidded eyes as he restrained her wrists to the bed. He whistled a tune as he reinserted the needle into her arms. Then, she heard it.

"What a good joke, this will be when I'm done Doctor," he cackled looking straight at her. "This will make you go to sleep so we can play later." Harleen's eyes shot open as his shrill snicker rang through her ears. It made her skin crawl. A small memory broke through the pain and surfaced up to the front of Harley's mind.

_She was in a different room now. The walls were the same blinding white of the hospital, but it didn't have a bed. Her small body was strapped down to a chair. The psychiatrist's stomach sank as she realized she was in the electroconvulsive therapy room. The clown man stood over her. His whole body tingled with anticipation and his red lips grinned with pleasure._

_"Jerry, are you going to hurt me? I thought we were friends?" Harley said, confused._

_In the past year, her relationship with Jerry had grown. He had slowly grown from her patient to her lover. Jerry understood her in a way that she felt nobody else could. Harley loved him. The doctor had already put her neck on the line to prove how much she loved her patient. She had helped him escape from the hospital once before. Once again, the doctor had helped the Joker escape. So why was she strapped down instead of in her lover's arms?_

_"Dr. Q, you're a sweet girl, but I hate that fucking name you made up for me. Call me Mr. Jay, Mr. Joker, or Joker. You will never hear my real name," he stated through a smile, too excited to be irritated. Harley was trying her hardest not to upset the man standing over her with two electrodes. She wondered if the Joker's plan was to kill her all along. Too many amperes would make her heart stop._

_"Mr. Jay, what are you going to do with me," she asked her so called lover again, hoping her intuition wasn't correct. "I helped you, again. The hospital is under your control. We can be together now, right?"_

_"Well, I do appreciate your help sweetheart. I can see you are devoted to me, but…" he trailed off. Harley felt her blood turn to ice. She had been fooled, by a patient. She put her job, license, and safety at risk to help a homicidal psychopath._

_"Are you strong enough? A life of crime is not easy. I need to make sure my Princess is tough enough and can handle herself," he asked. "Can you handle it?"_

_Harley released a sigh of relief. He hadn't betrayed her. She could join him, but she had to prove her strength. The psychiatrist thought of her college gymnastics and the self-defenses classes she learned in the city. Dr. Harleen Quinzel was not weak. She could show him that, but she was strapped to a chair for the moment._

_"Yes, yes, yes. I am not weak. I can show you how strong I am. I am flexible and I can fight. Let me go, and I'll show what I'm made of," she cooed giving him a sultry smirk and wink. Now, he could let her go, and they could be together._

_"I believe you, but what if they capture you? Even though it's illegal, you will end up in this chair, being interrogated. They'll want to know about me, my operations, my hideouts, my dealers, my territories and everything else," he explained with his hand caressing her chin. "You can't spill the beans. Then, the bat will get me, again. Wouldn't that be a cruel joke?"_

_Harley thought about Mister Jay's second entrance into Arkham Asylum. He had a broken arm, a black eye, and bruises all over his pale skin. It made her so angry that she vowed to help Mr. Jay get revenge on the masked vigilante._

_The psychiatrist now understood why her lover had to go to such extreme measures._

_"I get it Mr. Jay-," he started to say._

_The joker interrupted her with a finger on her lips, boring into the psychiatrist's blue eyes. "One last thing. You are from Brooklyn. I know you don't talk like that when you visit your family. If you want to join me, you have to give me your truest, most original self."_

_"You don't have to worry about that Mistah Jay," she cooed emphasizing every word. The joker smiled in appreciation for the return of her accent. "But what are you going to do to me?"_

_The joker put the leather strap in her mouth. "Don't worry, I'm not going to kill you," he explained. "I'm just going to hurt you real real bad."_

_Instantly, the doctor felt pain envelope her body. Her teeth clenched the leather strap as she moaned and twitched in pain. Drool seeped from her quivering lips. Her whole body shook as she tried to retain consciousness. She didn't want Mr. Jay to think she couldn't handle it._

_The roaring laughter of the joker filled the room. He watched her in pure unadulterated amusement. After about 10 seconds, the joker stopped laughing. He walked closer to her and fiddled with the power source in what Harley hoped was an attempt to turn the machine off. Instead, the shock intensified along with her pain. Harleen started to seizure and her eyes rolled back. The last thing she heard before she lost consciousness was the screeching laughter of her lover as she writhed in torment and foamed at the mouth._

"Joker'" Harley whispers through her lips with a smile.

"My Princess," Mr. Jay cooed as he hooked her second IV to a different bag.

She gazed at her lover. Worry gnawed away at her. The psychiatrist's future with the clown was looking uncertain. If the electroshock was the setup, Harley wasn't sure she could handle the punchline. Despite her concerns, the woman fell into a drug induced sleep.

* * *

 

Finally, Harley awoke without an IV in her arm. The grogginess and pain still enveloped her, but she could still think clearly. She looked around the white room. For the first time since the electroshock therapy, she woke up to find the chair by her bed empty.

"Mistah Jay," she looked around searching for the clown man.

The confused doctor tried to get out of bed. It was hard with such heavy limbs. Plus, the clothes she had warn at the time of incident weren't ideal for sleeping in. She had no idea how long she had been out. A day, a week, a month. No matter how long, it didn't matter because she spent them under the care of the green-haired villain. Carefully, she tried to swing her leg over the bed. The skirt she wore limited her range of motion. In a flurry of blonde hair, she slipped and fell out of the hospital bed. The doctor groaned when she hit the floor.

The blonde psychiatrist carefully got up on her shaky knees and crawled in search of something to use as leverage in order to standup. She heard someone chuckle. A pair of expensive oxfords greeted her.

"Sweetheart, what are you doing out of bed?" asked Mr. Jay with more curiosity than concern.

"I'm just trying to get up, Mistah Jay," she explained scrambling to right herself. Finally, she got over to the bed, and used the railing to stand. Her legs were trembling, but she had to show she was strong so she and Mr. Jay could be together. When she stood as best as she could, she looked at the clown with confidence. He looked at his girl with a grin.

"That's okay, I enjoyed seeing you on your hands and knees," the Clown Prince chuckled. Harleen could feel his eyes on her body as her as she staggered. Her own eyes raked over his appearance. Harley wasn't used to seeing him without his drab hospital uniform. He cleaned up rather nicely. He had changed into a suit that was tailored to perfection, clinging to him like a second skin. His hair had been cut and slicked back. A few tendrils were falling out of his coif and into his eyes. She wanted him.

Harley sat down on the bed, her eyes never leaving his. She made a point to leave her tan thighs spread wide, making her skirt rise. Mr. Jay walked over to the blonde and stood between her legs, hiking the fabric up even more. Harley could feel a strong arm snake around to the small of her back and settle on her ass. His hand roughly raked her hair, sending a shiver through her spine with each tug of her already tussled blonde locks. Harley watched her lover in awe as he leaned closer until he was an inch away from her lips. The grip on Harley's hair tightened as he opened up his red lips and bit Harley's bottom one. It was a small light nibble right in the middle of her lip that made her core ache with need. Harley's mouth gasped into an "O", letting the smallest moan escape, part pain, part pleasure. The tiniest drop of blood bubbled from the surface of her pale pink lips. Mr. Jay, licked it off before he dove down and devoured the mouth of his former psychiatrist. She was too weak to resist if she wanted to.

Kissing him was different from what Harley had experienced before. He mushed his dry lips onto hers and pressed his tongue inside Harley's mouth as if he was trying to force out all the oxygen. The result left her breathless, happy to suck in whatever he gave her. Her arms wrapped around his neck, wishing for the moment to never end.

As they kissed, the hand in her hair traveled down her body. Long nails scratched down to her neck. A cold fist harshly massaged her breast through her blouse, sending a moan from Harley's lip-locked mouth. Mr. Jay's hands started to rake between Harley's breasts down to her stomach until it rested on her waistline. The psychiatrist's heart was racing and her brain felt fuzzy, trapped in the same breathtaking kiss. Eventually, Mr. Jay pulled his lips away. The blonde's lungs burned as she breathed in. Harley used all her strength scoot to the edge of the bed and pull her skirt up to her belly button, spreading her trembling legs even wider. His clothed erection brushed her lacy core. A loud gasp echoed across the room as Harley reveled at the soft fabric against her thighs and the friction against her center. Mr. Jay simply smiled as he unbuttoned her shirt. Then, he pulled a small knife out of her suit. Harley was too engulfed in the pressure against her crotch to care. Her moans grew silent as Mr. Jay pressed the soft cool metal in the shallow between her breasts under her bra. In a swift motion, he glided the knife away from Harley, filling the silence with the sound of ripping fabric. Harley sighed at the pleasurable sensation of breasts being released. The Joker put the knife back in his jacket and continued to grind against his conquest. His red lips found her neck and latched onto Harley's frantic pulse. He sucked hard on her and dug his nails into her back as the heat between them grew. Moans and gasps from Harley's unoccupied mouth enveloped the room.

Finally, Mr. Jay released Harley's neck with a large pop. She sat on the edge of the bed with her shirt unbuttoned, and skirt around her waist. Her hair was rustled, and her cheeks were red. She huffed furiously through her bruised mouth, sweat pooling above her brow. The joker looked cool and composed. Not a hair was out of place. The only disheveled thing about the clown was that lipstick was all over his face and his shirt was wrinkled. A panting Mr. Jay stared at Harley. The gleam of sweat shone in the light across his forehead. He pinched the inside of Harley's thighs with one hand and undid his belt with the other. Harley's hand reached to help her lover in eagerness.

Then, a loud banging echoed through the hospital room. Harley ignored it as she continued to unwrap her prize. She was unbuttoning his pants when the knock rang again, louder and more urgent. This time, the Joker pushed her away and redid his pants and belt. Harley used the hospital blanket to cover herself trying to contain the pulsing between her legs.

It was one of his henchmen. Harley thought that they usually wore animal costumes, but the tall, handsome brunette was wearing a suit similar to the clowns. Mr. Jay had flung the door open so fast, the man almost hit him. The green-haired clown grabbed  the brunette's arm before it made contact and twisted it behind his back. "What the fuck is so important that you bothered me when I specifically told you not to," the clown snarled into the taller man's ear. Harley felt her legs quiver at his raspy tone.

The man whispered, "The Bat is in the South Wing Sir."

"Mother fucker," the boss screamed walking over to Harley. He reached down, grabbed two guns from under the bed, and holstered them. Then, he wiped his mouth and pointed to Harley as she was scrambling to right herself under the blanket. "I'm going to get the gang and take care of him. Frost, I want you to grab her as a hostage. Then, we are leaving." Ever since the knock on the door, the Joker hadn't looked at her.


End file.
